Storm
by sylveisaque
Summary: Roy cancels an appointment with Ed after a particularly disastrous mission concerning a lead on the stone, and Ed pensively wonders why. Fluffy. Very fluffy. Like, giant-cottonball fluffy. Also could be considered AU, and very slight OOC.


It just HAD to be raining.

The one time a support beam crashed to the ground, bringing Grand Central Station's awning with it, of course it had to rain. It would rain right up until the day it was fixed, Ed was sure of it. It was the Elric luck. Anything that could go wrong, did.

For example, the ninth Philosopher's stone lead in a row was a bust. Not only was the lead busted, but so too was the Mercay inn, the bank, the market... aw, hell, the whole_ town_ was busted. Which was why Edward was dreading this latest report he had to give. He was previously due in today to turn in his written report, and, as Colonel Bastard always made him do, a verbal report (Stupid jerk, rubbing his face in his failures.), but Mustang had cancelled in favor of tomorrow. Ed had a feeling that Mustang might be too mad to deal with him after hearing what happened from another source (namely, the irate police chief), and for some reason, that made him feel ashamed.

He growled under his breath, staring moodily out the cab window. Stupid Colonel was such a self-centered jerk, Ed didn't have time to waste lounging in Central doing nothing. The noise made Al sigh irritably. "It's your fault for wrecking the town, brother. Retribution has to come sometime." _Yeah, yeah, equivalent exchange, I freaking GET IT already._ He just wished it didn't come from the mouth of that bastard. He took his turn to sigh, just waiting for the cab to reach the military hotel.

--

He finally managed to cool his head hours later, with the help of a hot shower, the mind-numbing menial task of drying his brother's armor, and a back rub, courtesy one Alphonse Elric. Honestly, he knew Al couldn't tell how much pressure he was exerting, but those huge leather gauntlets were perfect for kneading kinks out of his muscles.

He lounged around the hotel room in not much more than boxers, pants and a pullover black shirt, pondering a trip to the library. He didn't have much else to do, really. It figured, just as soon as he acknowledged the quiet, the phone rang. Al's head came up with a slight screech of metal-on-metal, but Ed waved a hand, walking toward the phone and yanking it up. God, these ringers were annoying. Stupid hotel phones.

"Elric."

"Fullmetal. Good. Where are you?"

"You're the one who cancelled, asshole." His voice was a bored monotone. Alphonse groaned in the background. "I'm at the hotel, where else would I be?"

"The hotel? Perfect. I need you to come over to my apartment. Now." Was it him, or was the Colonel sounding a bit... panicked? Irritable?

"...Why? And wouldn't you know where I was by dialing a hotel number?"

"Don't be an ass, Fullmeta- ARGH!"

Ed's hackles rose. "Colonel? _Colonel!_ Answer me, Mustang!" The line was dead.

Without a second thought, Ed dropped the phone, grabbed his boots and coat, and tore out into the pouring rain, heedless of Al's worried inquiries. He knew where Mustang lived, it wasn't too far from here. He only hoped he got there in time. He prayed to a whatever god was listening that there wasn't a homunculus responsible.

--

He skidded to a stop, rain-soaked and panting, outside apartment number one- thirteen. He belatedly realized he didn't have a key, but habit dictated that he try the doorknob anyway... and it opened readily, not even locked. _Ohhh, that's a BAD sign._

He tiptoed into the apartment, ready to transmute at a moment's notice. It looked like nothing was out of place, no blood on the walls or furniture. The floorplan was weird, though. Immediately inside the door, to the right was a kitchenette, on the left a small dining table, and a door he supposed lead to a guest bedroom. Just beyond the kitchen was a large nook in the hallway where a couch was situated, and a coffee table... and Mustang's legs poking into the hallway, from the far side. Ed swallowed, dashing over. He only hoped the rest of the Colonel was still attached.

His fears were quashed when he leaned over the side of the table to see Mustang, on his back and eyes closed... but alive. "Colonel!"

Mustang's eyes snapped open. "Ah. Fullmetal. You came."

"What's going on?" Suspicion settled in the pit of his stomach. Something was weird, here.

"Oh, nothing. I just- oof!"

A flying ball of blond hair and pink-and-green cloth flew through the air, landing squarely on Mustang's stomach. Said ball was revealed to be one very hyper Elysia Hughes, jabbering nonstop.

"Cuuuuh-moooon, Uncle Roy, get up!" She grabbed at his hand in a futile attempt to lift him.

"Uncle Roy can't get up. He's dead." Mustang went limp on the floor. Ed's left eyebrow began a migration toward his hairline. "Go play with Edward."

She only seemed to notice Edward in the room just then, whipping her head around so fast Ed flinched. "But I wanna play wiff you, Uncle Roy! Pleeeeease?"

And right then everything clicked. Mustang cancelled because he was babysitting, not 'cos he was _mad._ And he called Edward over... to _help?_

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, hell no. I'm not doin' this." He turned around immediately, making a beeline for the door.

"Fullmetal, wait!" Roy shot up immediately, depositing Elysia on the couch.

Ed pivoted on his heel, arms crossed. "Why?" He demanded petulantly.

"Don't make me make this an order. I am not good with kids."

"And what makes you think I am?"

"Well, you are one, for starters."

Edward seethed. "I am not a child, you bas-jerk." He only toned down his language when he saw two green eyes staring curiously at him from the sofa. He quieted his voice so she couldn't hear. "If you're so bad with kids, then why did you volunteer to watch her?"

"I didn't. The babysitter cancelled at the last second, and Maes and Gracia have had anniversary reservations at the restaurant for months, and they couldn't just- look, will you just stay?"

Ed sighed. "Tell you what. Let me off the hook for what happened in Mercay, tell the truth next time I ask you for information, and cook me dinner, and we'll call it even."

Mustang balked."What?!" He hissed. "I can't just let you off the hook like that! The police chief has already sent a report to the higher ups for reimbmursment for-"

"'Kay then, deal's off. See you tomorrow." Edward turned toward the door.

"Guh- fine. I'll do it, alright?"

Edward grinned triumphantly, still facing away from Mustang. Jackpot. "Okay, what's the problem?"

"Well, she won't eat anything, but I know she's hungry. And I can't get her to sit still for more than five seconds. Case in point." He motioned to the girl, who had pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and (literally) cocooned herself in it. Ed snickered.

"Uhm. Okay. do you have any crackers, or something?"

"Hold on..." Mustang ducked into the kitchen, rifling through a cabinet. After a few moments, he came back out with a packet of animal crackers. Ed raised an eyebrow.

"They're for her. I have to be ready for things like this."

Ed shrugged. "Whatever." He took the crackers, tossed off his now-damp coat, and ambled over to the couch, flopping down nonchalantly on the end opposite the Elysia-bundle. Roy leaned against the wall outside the kitchen, watching.

Edward opened the packet, being sure to crackle the wrapper so she could hear. Lazily, he picked out a cracker, raising it to his mouth as thought he were going to eat it. Cracker hovering near his mouth, he opened one eye, and, sure enough, a little blond head popped out of the lump of blankets, gazing at him. "You want one?"

Elysia nodded. Edward jerked his head in a 'come here' motion, and she extracted herself from the afghan, crawling into his lap. he set the crackers in her (much smaller) lap, and tilted his head up to sneer at Mustang. That was easy. "You got any kids books?"

"If I do, they're on the table." Mustang turned around and disappeared into the kitchen, scowling.

Ed leaned forward carefully, sifting some of the books aside. The first few were all alchemy books, another a mystery novel (...what the hell?), and finally, he came upon one that was kid-appropriate. Probably contraband snuck in by one Maes Hughes. And it was about mermaids. Oh joy.

"Can I read?" Her tiny voice came up to his ears, big green eyes staring at him.

Ed smiled gently. "Sure." He flipped open the book to the first page.

--

Even in the kitchen, with the griddle sizzling in front of him, Roy could still hear the two voices drift in from the living room.

"'She swam down into the...' coh...cuh... uh..."

"It's okay, sound it out."

"'Cor...al... coral?"

"Yup, that's it. Keep reading."

He found himself grinning, both at them, and at the blatant domesticity of the situation. This is one position he never thought he'd get into with a subordinate. Other than Hughes, of course. That was a given, they'd been friends since before either of them could remember. The story told by Roy's late father was ' I saw the kid ambling around the corner of the house when you were about a week old, Roy, two after we'd moved in, and I just had to say hi.' It was all good-natured jabs, really, Warren often referred to Maes as 'their adoptive son'.

This little trip down memory lane was interrupted by the smell of burning bread, ripping his attention back to the present. He sighed irritably. At least he'd done theirs first, he only had to scrape charred bread off of his own sandwich.

Switching off the stove, he leaned against the counter and scraped the burnt parts off the bread with a knife. He hadn't been lying to Ed when he said he was bad with kids, he always felt distant around them, and never knew how to treat them. Maes, however, was a natural. Growing up, all of the younger kids in the neighborhood adored him, like an older brother. He played games with them, broke up fights, defended the little ones from bullies... Roy spent most of his childhood as Maes' shadow, garnering bits of the hero-worship now and then, and that was fine with him at the time. It was strange; their roles had almost completely reversed now. Maes' was in Roy's shadow, and deliberately so.

There was something wrong, though. He couldn't quite put his finger on it until he stopped thinking for a moment. It was quiet. No high-pitched, four-year-old voice reading haltingly from a picture book, or an older, boyish one encouraging her. Roy furrowed his brow, and peeked around the wall... and grinned wickedly.

--

"Well, that was... enjoyable."

Gracia laughed. "Yeah, I don't think the waiter was expecting a thirty-something couple to start flicking cashews at eachother."

Maes joined in the laughter. Their real five-year anniversary was actually three days ago, but the restaurant was so damn full that today was the only opening for weeks. They were exceedingly lucky that Roy was free tonight, as their current babysitter was being quite flaky lately. Maybe it was time to find somebody else.

He pulled into the parking lot, popping the brake and hurrying around to help Gracia out. This was their last stop of the evening: retrieve the package from it's honorary uncle, and drive home. They walked up the stairs arm-in-arm, still amused over dinner. They were dressed for the occasion, yeah, but as soon as the cashews came out, they were newlyweds again. That particular episode garnered quite a few odd looks.

Maes rapped lightly on the door to apartment 113, and it opened moments later. "Hey, Sparky, you have our girl?" Gracia giggled.

"Yeah. And don't call me that, how many times do I have to say it?" He jerked his head toward the living room, holding a finger to his lips, in a shushing gesture.

Intrigued, Maes and Gracia followed silently, peeking into the sitting room. And promptly made distinct crooning noises.

"I trust you have pictures?" Maes leered sidelong at Roy, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yes. For blackmail puropses."

"You send me copies. Or die."

On the couch was Edward, in a sitting position, fast asleep, with his head lolled back on the headrest, snoring lightly, and an equally tired (but not snoring) Elysia, curled into a ball in his lap. His hands looked as if they had been holding something, but Roy gently removed the book earlier, to avoid the noise it would make if it fell.

Gracia sighed, starting forward to gather Elysia. "You know, if you didn't torture him so much, he might actually start to like you, Roy."

Roy frowned. "But that's no fun. I like torturing him. It makes me happy."

Maes stifled a laugh.

They all jumped moments later when the phone rang, like a whipcrack in dead silence. Roy swore and ran for it, yanking it off the hook mid-ring. "Hello?... Oh, Alphonse. Yeah, I kind of kidnapped your brother earlier. Sorry about that. Yes, he's here. You might want to come pick him up, though."

"We can drive him home. It's just to the hotel, right?" Maes turned to Gracia, who nodded.

"Ah... okay, nevermind then, Hughes will drive him over." There was a momentary silence. "Al says hi, and thanks."

"Naaah." Maes, wagged a hand, as if to say 'no big deal'. He handed Gracia the keys, so she could go ahead with Elysia. As Roy wrapped up his conversation with Al, Maes walked over to Ed, shaking him lightly. "Hey, Ed. Wakey wakey."

"Mnrrph... Ed swatted at Maes like he was shooing a fly, and flopped sideways on the couch, curling up. "Edward, get your ass up, it's time to go."

"Go 'way, Al...m'tired..."

"Oh, you wish I was your brother." Roy sniggered from across the room as Maes wedged his hands between Edward and the couch, and deftly flipped him to the floor.

"Wuh-AACK!"

He fell to the floor in a sleepy, grumpy heap, and slurringly berated Hughes for it. "Whadja do thaffor?! I... hey, wait... this isn't the hotel... where..."

Hughes grabbed Ed by the shoulders and hoisted him upright. Edward muttered a soft 'whoa' as he swayed, thrown off by the change of position. He blinked owlishly, rubbing gunk from his eyes. "...Hughes?"

"He's going to drive you home. Now get out of my apartment, both of you."

Ed glared at Mustang as soon as he heard his voice. "Oh, so you're kicking me out after you panicked and decided you couldn't handle a _four-year-old_."

"Watch it, you little punk."

"Don't call me li-"

"Ed."

"What?!" Ed whipped around to look at Hughes, who stared at him for a moment before blowing a puff of air in his face. Ed flinched backwards and blinked. "Come now, young one, we're leaving."

Roy, spectator to all this, had a wonderfully confused expression on his face. "...Maes, have you been drinking?"

"No. Why?"

Both Roy and Ed favored the other man with a baffled expression for a moment, before Ed's eyes flitted over to Roy. "...You're not seriously going to leave me alone with him, are you?"

"Gracia will be there to shield you from some of the crazy. Now shoo."

"Come on, Ed. Sparky gets grumpy if he can't get his nine hours of beauty sleep. And then another two in the office."

Ed stared for a moment, thrown off by the nickname. He snorted, trying not to laugh. "..._Sparky?_" he giggled.

Roy snapped. "That's enough cheap shots from both of you. Out." He shoved them both, an amused Maes and giggling, sleepy Ed, out the door.

--

Ed was still snickering when they made it to the car, finally sobering before he climbed in, feeling sleep sneaking up on him again. He gave Gracia a polite hello, sliding into the backseat next to Elysia, who immediately crawled across the seat and pillowed her head on his leg. Ed smiled gently, a rare, heartfelt gesture, and stroked her hair absently as he watched the light from the streetlamps dance across the windows.

He yawned tiredly, feeling himself drifting off. His worries of the day were gone, and he slowly nodded off, to dreamless sleep.

The storm was past.

--

Roy may seem a bit OOC here, I know. Desperation and a overly energetic four year old can do that to you. XD


End file.
